


Calendar Boys

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Everyone is a little bit gay, Everyone is smoking hot, F/M, John "Three Continents" Watson, Missused as has become Mary/John, Model!John, Model!Sherlock, Or Erik is not a Happy Bunny?, Photographer!Mary, ReaperSun's Calendar, Sorry Reaper!, The Tags which pop up are so fun have you seen Everyone is Dead?, Vaguely Porny Charity Calendars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:32:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because those types of calendars are all the range at the moment, Molly Hooper and Sally Donovan have decided that it'd be a good way to get revenge on the boys and raise money at the same time! </p><p>What they didn't expect, was that it'd be a good way of introducing John Watson to his future Girlfriend, as the photographer they hire happens to be one Mary Morstan. Problem is, it can be hard wooing your future partner when you've got your Naked Hetrosexual (ish) Life Partner in the same room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calendar Boys

**Author's Note:**

> So a few months ago the ever delightful Reapersun announced she would be selling a Calendar inspired by those pin-up ones she gets from her friends every year. 
> 
> A month after that, my darling Charli (Cak on AO3) announced via skype that she'd got it for me as a gift!
> 
> Of course when I started looking through this hilariously titillating Calendar, filled with Reaper's classic style and pernash, it'd be obvious for my mind to skip straight to my OTP - and make it all about Mary/John. 
> 
> I wrote this in about an hour following that. This was, again, a few months back and it's been sitting int he dusty corners of my Laptop ever since. However, I think with Mary appearing in Series 3, and her character no doubt being completely different, it's going to be my last chance to post it. So here you go. 
> 
> Un beataed I'm afriad but Brit-Picked by yours truly ;) 
> 
> And Reaper, if you see this, I'm so sorry.

Mary Morstan had a rough idea what to expect when she arrived at 221B for the photo shoot. She’d done these kind of Pin Up Charity Calenderers before; most recently one involving a group of middle-aged farmers just outside Ripon. She shuddered at the memory. No amount of mind bleach was going to rid her of the incident with Mr Newman and that rampaging Ewe… 

She was with the organisers of the Calendar, Molly Hooper and Sally Donovan who were helping her carry up her equipment. They turned out to be a mortician and a Sergeant with the Met. She liked women like this, who were unashamed, brash and in control. Plus that Molly girl was pretty easy on the eye. Shame she was engaged. They were raising money for Macmillan nurses a cause close to both of the women’s hearts.

“I’ve always wanted to do something to thank them for all they did for my Father when he died a couple of years back.” Shrugged Molly “And when I found out that Sally here felt the same”

“My sister’s one of their nurses, see. She works to the bone for her patients and she keeps coming back with these amazing stories. It’s such a good cause”

“So we thought we’d team up, get the guys together and make the most of their, um” she giggled “God Given Assets.”

“How on earth did you get them to agree to this?” After all, the models included an Army Doctor, a world famous detective, a Detective Inspector and a Government official.” 

Molly gave a sly grin “They owe me a favor.” Was all she said and she pushed open the door.

Bloody Hell, thought Mary as she locked eyes with Captain John Watson of the fifth Northumberland Fusiliers in a pair of army combat trousers and a tight fitting white T-shirt, he’s a bit lovely.

 

Ahh great, thought John, looking at the woman who had to be their photographer for this God Forsaken Photo shoot. It was just his luck that the person taking his photo was gorgeous. Crap. 

You may think that having a beautiful blonde with large blue eyes the colour of the ocean taking your photo whilst you were semi nude was every mans dream; but when you were in your flat with your Heterosexual(ish) Life Partner and his brother, your best mate and his fiancé and his second in command along with her ex. All whilst Mrs Hudson kept them supplied with tea and sandwiches from Speedy’s. Well. It was about the unsexiest thing he could think of. 

“Mary Morstan” she said, introducing herself. She wore a simple white shirt and black trousers but looked absolutely stunning in them. True, she was not a traditional beauty. She wouldn’t have been on any billboards of adverts. But that had always been John’s type, so to speak, people who had an inner beauty that shone past all that. And oh Shit he was going to be naked in front of her!

After a couple of beats she supplied “John Watson I presume?” 

“Um yeah, yeah, that’s me. Hey, how, how are you? You, you look good, I mean, like a good photographer. Not that you don’t, you know, look good, you look great but I mean you look like a good photographer because that is why you are here. To take photos. Not that you can tell whether someone’s a good photographer based on how they look although Sherlock here probably can ahahahahahaha” smooth Watson. Smooth. 

And just as requested… “I can tell from your camera that you were quite a successful photographer once but you’ve fallen on hard times. You’re using a high end Nikon but it’s at least three, four years old. The Lens is in need of replacing but you don’t have the money to do it. That’s why you’ve taken up these photo shoots. Last week you did one in Yorkshire, near Ripon judging by the small traces of mud on the bottom of your trousers. You had a traumatic experience whilst there which indicates that it was probably one much like we’re producing today. You clearly got home from the shoot and changed as quickly as you could so as to be rid of the memory. You didn’t notice the mud on the bottom of your trousers until just now. Though you have clearly washed them since then, the mud had dried too much to be rid by a delicates wash. But as you seem to be in semi-regular employment as well as a former teacher, ALevel probably, I suspect that John here is correct in his assumption that you are, indeed, ‘good’.” Whilst this speech was quite impressive under normal circumstances, it was made more so by the fact the man was wearing nothing much but a blue silk robe whose tie had just slipped to reveal a pair of white pants with a little bumblebee on them. How cute!

“Sherlock Holmes,” she grinned offering her hand “you certainly do live up to your reputation.” Sherlock gave her an appreciative smirk and twirled around to flop down on the sofa, dispersing Greg in the process. She was introduced in turn to the rest of the models, Mycroft Holmes who was Sherlock’s brother; Gregory Lestrade who was Molly’s fiancé and Sylvester Anderson who was just… there… apparently. Something to do with revenge? She wasn’t sure how she felt about photographing a group of people who were being coerced into posing in various titillating positions. But they all worked in Law Enforcement and were here, after all. Plus they all seemed game for a laugh. Even if John was refusing to meet her eye.

 

“So, what’s the plan of action?” asked Greg rubbing his hands together. He was wearing a thick brown dressing gown and looked quite at home reclining on the armchair with Molly perched, giggling, on the arm.

“Can I go first?” asked Anderson folding his arms across his chest “I just want to get this over and done with so I can go home. I don’t want to see this lot with their kit off either.” What a ray of sunshine. 

“Fine by me” she smiled, always best to keep the models happy. “We’ll do Sylvester and Mycroft first as they’re only appearing once, than Greg as he’s agreed to do two and we’ll finish up with the boys.”

Anderson gave a huff “Where do you want me to go?” Mary pulled up the notes on her phone and reminded herself of her plans. 

“You bought your CSI stuff yeah?”

“If by CSI you mean my official forensics anti-contamination clothing, which some of us still wear in order to prevent crime scenes from being disturbed and corrupting evidence, then yes.” he directed this at Sherlock but before the detective had time to respond John had stepped on his foot and Greg had yelled

"That’s enough Anderson. You’re standing in his home for goodness sake now go and put your bloody suit on.”

Anderson scowled and headed into the bathroom “Don’t forget to wear nothing underneath it” added Sally brightly. Mary could practically hear his scowl. 

Whilst he was getting sorted she started to set up the scene. She’d seen from the photos of the flat Molly had emailed over to her that the Kitchen contained plenty of science equipment which would work really well as a background for this shot. She set this up as best she could then bought in the soft box and lights from the living room. 

Anderson arrived from the bathroom looking just as uncomfortable as he always had. This was going to be easy, thought Mary. An uncomfortable model always gave the best results imaginable! “Go over there by the kitchen sink, you see where the test tubes and stuff are? That’s where we’ll be taking your shots.”

“I’d guessed as much,” sneered Anderson “given the lights and all.”

“Of course you did Dear” smiled Mary testing the lighting and taking a quick snap to see how the set up was. She adjusted the equipment slightly and asked “Could you roll the top part down for me please?” Anderson didn’t move, only glared to his right where the whole crowed were standing in the doorway, eager expressions on their faces. Including one lady who had to be the infamous Mrs Hudson. 

“If you’re all going to watch than I am not doing this.” Mary gave the group an apologetic look and shooed them away. All except Sally who’d come up to stand just behind Mary. “You’re not staying.” Said Anderson bluntly.

“You’re here on my command, Anderson, and if you think I’m going to miss this then you’re wrong. You owe me, remember? Big time.” She crossed her arms as well and looked for all the world like a Lioness staring down a wildebeest.

The wildebeest lost and rolled down his top to reveal a surprisingly muscular physic. “That’s right,” encouraged the photographer “just let the top part hang at your waist, perfect, now can you keep your arms inside the sleeves as though you’re about to put it on again? Perfect. Now turn slightly more to your left, great.” She took a few quick fire snaps “Could you possibly look a bit happier? Not, you know, ‘Oh wow there’s a new Harry Potter book’ happy just not like you want to kill everyone in the room?” he continued to stare at Sally rather than look at the camera, though he did seem slightly more content. Mary decided that beggars couldn’t be choosers and continued to snap away from various angles. “Well, that’s the best I think I’m going to get out of you. You can go put your clothes back on now.”

“Thanks Sylvia. You looked great.” 

“It’s Sylvester.” He muttered as he slouched back to the bathroom. 

“Moving on from Mr Grumpy Pants, how about we do Mycroft?”

 

Mycroft Holmes was not the sort of man who appeared in these calendars. For one, he wore a suit in his day-to-day life and Mary wondered if he even owned a TShirt. Heck, it wouldn’t surprise her if he slept in a special suit made of silk. Government officials very rarely agreed to pose nude for these things, and when they did, it usually came back to bite them in the arse. This was how scandals started, she thought. But maybe it was the charity element? Once more, though, she wondered what Molly had over them all to warrant this so called favour. 

When she came back in the room, it was to find the man already waiting wearing a burgundy robe similar to Sherlock’s. 

“Where would you like me, Ms Morstan?” he asked without a hint of irony or innuendo. Nice. 

“I was thinking on the desk here, could you give me a hand with this table, John?”

“Yeah, yeah sure I’ll do it.” He went to pick up the table but in his eagerness to please he forgot that moving a table by yourself tends to be a difficult business. Greg went to rescue him. 

“I think she likes you, John, I don’t think there’s any need to act like a love sick fifteen year old” he whispered 

“Shut Up.” Growled John. He knew what he was doing was pathetic and useless. But he couldn’t help himself! She was a just a woman, he told himself, you’re good with women. You’re John Hamish ‘Three Continents’ Watson. But that was it, wasn’t it? In all his experience, across North America, Europe and Africa, he’d never met a person like her. What Greg said couldn’t be right. She was a beautiful, smart, successful woman who probably already had a sexy underwear model of a boyfriend. Or even a girlfriend. What would she want with a retired army doctor with a shoulder that ached when it rained and a crazy ass Detective upon whom he was completely emotionally reliant. No. There was not a snowballs chance in hell that he was going to get anywhere. So there was no point in acting like an idiot. If only it were that simple… 

“Thanks” smiled Mary, brushing a hand down John’s shoulder “much appreciated.” John actually gulped. He fucking gulped. Bloody fucking shitting arseholes on a pogo stick he really needed to get a hold up on his emotions. “Right.” She said turning to Mycroft, drop the robe and we’ll-”

“I am not staying to see this. I see far too much of my brother as it is. I have no desire to see him that sheer amount of flab” Announced Sherlock and swept out of the room and downstairs.

Mycroft gave a soft chuckle “Perhaps at last he understands why I was so angry at Buckingham Palace.” There was a story there, thought Mary, but perhaps for another time. 

“Yeah, um, I might just, go and see how he is” said John 

“I’ll join you” nodded Sally and the two hurried from the room. 

“I think I’ve got a phone call to make.” Added Molly “Greg you want to come and help me with that thing?” it was an offer to leave. 

“Na Molls, you go. I might be needed here. Give Mary a hand you know.” He didn’t even seem ashamed as Molly rolled her eyes and trotted down the stairs, though Mary did spot Mycroft lean on the table for support.

Getting back to the business in hand “For your photo, I thought you could be carry an Umbrella? Give a bit of a nod to the whole London element.” She handed him a cheap black umbrella from her bag. The man just looked at it disdainfully. 

“If it’s all right by you I’d much rather use my own. Sentiment, you understand.” He indicated to a very smart umbrella with a mahogany handle resting by the door. It was July! Who on Earth carried an Umbrella in July! 

She shrugged and went about setting the photo up. Getting Mycroft in the correct position. He was much more compliant than Anderson had been but the two had quite a similar physique. Where on earth had that come from. Those suits really did cover up far too much. Greg didn’t seem shocked though and continued to gaze appreciatively at him. 

“Just perch on the table ledge there, great, now lift the umbrella up, perfect, yeah just behind your shoulder like that, shift it a little further forward, brilliant. Now look down, yeah just like that, very coy, nice, great that’s the one. Robe back on please” she winked and Mycroft gratefully slipped the robe back on. Suddenly out of nowhere a woman in a tailored suit appeared by Mary’s shoulder. 

“Your car is out front, Sir, along with a change of clothing. You have the Korean ambassador at 4.00 and then the car will take you directly to the helicopter. You’ll arrive in Chicago at 800 hours. I’ve already prepared your notes for the conference. They’ll be in your briefcase. Oh, and we’ve made sure that they have an actual British chef serving the tea this time. He’s been informed of all your requirements.” She said all this without looking up from her blackberry. 

“Thank you Anastasia, your service is invaluable. Ms Morstan. Detective Inspector.” He inclined his head in turn, picked up his umbrella and left the flat. Still wearing the dressing gown. 

“Funny.” Mused Greg. “She told me last time her name was Finola.” 

 

“Greg, you’re up next. I was thinking classic Naughty Cop and then Handcuffs?” everyone had assembled again by now. Clearly the sight of Greg in the buff was preferable to Mycroft. Not that Greg was going to be naked for this one. Mary thought she’d vary things a bit. Add some colour to the product. Greg would be wearing a sexy Policeman Uniform she’d borrowed from a friend. On the whole is resembled a standard PCO but was much much tighter and involved less buttons. The hat, mind, was the same. 

This time Mary chose to photograph him up against the door of the flat. The corridor was quite dark but the artificial lighting worked well and she was able to get some good angles. Greg was a joy to photograph. He was charismatic and brash. He’d do anything she said but would add his own twist. She’d have to give him her card afterwards. If ever he decided to retire from crime. 

Once they were done, they moved into the living room. Greg sat down on the sofa and the group piled in behind her. Sally pretended to be examining the skull on the mantle piece (Mary would have to work that into the calendar some how) instead of ogling her boss whilst Sherlock moodily plucked at his violin. He clearly wasn’t used to not being the center of attention. John and Molly just watched with interest. Though, in all honesty, it wasn’t just the shirtless handcuffed DI that held John’s attention, the pretty photographer bending down to take some shots looked pretty good to. Especially in those trousers. 

John quickly diverted his eyes to staring at Greg. Ok, she’d think he was gay now but everyone else did and he was a 2 on the Kinsey Scale so it wasn’t exactly false to assume that.... However, as great as Greg looked with the buttons undone on those tight leather trousers and his hands cuffed together above his head; it was kind of difficult to get a hard on for someone you’d seen covered in human feces and wearing a clown wig. That had certainly been one for the blog! Molly didn’t seem to be having any issues mind. She was practically drooling. “Looking good there mate” winked John. Greg just looked at him judgingly.  
“All done. You can put your shirt back on now. Though it’d be a bit of a shame if you did. I think John’s been enjoying it.” She winked. The conversation in John’s head went as follows:

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit she thinks I’m gay._

No She doesn’t. You started the comments. It’s all good. 

_What if I told her I’m not gay?_

When the fuck has that ever worked?

_But she can’t think me and Greg… I mean, he’s not Sherlock_

Wait, we’re not gay for Sherlock either.

_We are a bit_

Ok a bit but not enough. Right?

_Meh_

Anyway. Not interested. Not in Greg or Sherlock right now. Fuuuuuck how am I going to get through this.

Come on Watson. You can do this. Just lay back and think of England. 

 

“Sherlock next, I think, if that’s all right with you John?”

“Probably for the best. Before he does something stupid. Like shoot bullets at the wall.”

“Is he likely to do that?” Mary asked conversationally 

John laughed “See that smiley face there?” he indicated turning her shoulder to look “Bullet holes.”

“Where he’d get the gun?”

Greg coughed loudly “I think I’ve heard enough for now.”

“Tell you later” he winked nudging her with his shoulder. 

“Can we leave all of this ritualistic flirting till after these ridiculous photos are taken? I’m sure Mary is more than willing to sleep with you John but can it not wait until after?”

John was pleased to note that Mary had turned just as pink as he had. Though, he supposed, that might have something to do with his naked flat mate.

 

Well that was awkward. She really liked John and she had the feeling he felt the same way. But for whatever reason he didn’t seem to want to know. She thought it might have something to do with his flat mate but apparently not? Unless this was Sherlock being jealous? Maybe they were a couple….

No, thought Mary, no. She was sure she’d seen John checking out her arse earlier… but maybe. 

_Damn it Mary get your act together! You’re on a job for fucks sake!_

“Sherlock, I see you’re ready to begin then. Shall we start with the Violin?”

And so a series of photos were taken. Sherlock looking coy wearing the blue robe, whose fabric shifted softly against his bare skin. Sherlock with his hips spread apart, the violin between his thighs hiding his cock whilst he bit down on the bow.

“I am not doing that with my bow.”

“But it’ll look super hot Sherlock!” pleaded Molly, a little breathless, her pupils wide. Now it was Greg’s turn to roll his eyes. But if he was allowed to ogle Mycroft, then, concluded Mary, Molly was well within her rights to drool over the Great Detective. And who could blame her? With that dark hair contrasted against his ivory skin. The cupid bow and those wolf grey eyes. She’d find it hard to imagine anyone not finding him attractive. With him on the cover this calendar was sure to sell. There’d be entire tumblr blogs dedicated to him! She couldn’t wait to see the fanart. 

In the end he agreed to suck on his spare bow. But it took some encouragement for sure. The photo was certainly Mary’s favourite. Though John expressed great amusement in the ‘Death Frisbee’ shot. It seemed to be some kind of in-joke judging by how much persuasion Sherlock took.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I refuse, why on earth would you saying yes make me change my mind?”

“Three years.”

“…… fine pass me the stupid hat.”

At last they were done and it was time to move onto John. This was the one Mary had been looking forward to.  
“I’ve left the best till last’’ She winked. Sherlock rolled his eyes and threw his robe back on.

 

John had been dreading this. But. Mary seemed, well, she seemed like she might actually like him? Maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be awkward if he asked her out for dinner afterwards? He just had to survive a semi-pornographic photoshoot with her. 

Well. The first shot seemed easy enough. Strip his shirt and pretend to be tying his shoelaces. Easy. He’d done that pose a million times in the army. He pulled his shirt off and got on with it.

*

Mary bit down on her lip. If she were a bloke, things would be getting awkward round about now. But she was a grown woman and a professional. She could handle a totally hot doctor in army uniform and a scar across his shoulder flexing his biceps. He looked slightly awkward throughout, but it just added to the photo. When John got up she thought she spied something red….

*

Oh great. He was lying across his bed. In his underpants. Which were red. He knew he should have worn some normal black boxers but he’d felt the need for a confidence boost so he’d worn the red ones. They always made him feel better about himself. They were slightly defiant and against army regulations. Mary was behind him, she seemed a bit out of breath and was struggling to hold the camera steady. It was just them in the room so perhaps… no, surely not?

*

_Stay professional Morstan. Stay professional._

This had never happened to her. She’d photographed people in much more compromising positions. Actor’s she’d had crushes on, old boyfriends, ex girlfriends. She’d never so much as blushed during those shoots. But this? With John laid out before her, perfect arse in the air on his own bed in his own room. His flat mate downstairs. She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. 

_Don’t think about ripping those pants off with your teeth._

“Could you look back at the camera for me, John?”

_Don’t think about licking that scar._

“That’s right just lift your torso a little higher.”

 _Don’t think about grabbing him by the face and…._  
“Could you push your hips further into the mattress?”

_Your year 10 head English teacher in the green corduroy suit_

“Ok, now lets try one with your buttocks raised higher, yeah just like that perfect.”

_The dead fox you dissected and photographed for your Degree_

“Lift your elbow a little bit higher”

_Anderson._

_……_

_Much better._

“There. All done. You can but your trousers back on now.”

Thank fuck. 

“Just Christmas left for you, John, and I think Molly had an idea already planned for February.”

“Well, I always wanted to be the main act!”

“Well, like I said, I like leaving the best till last.”

*

Ok. So this was much easier. They even had a bit of a laugh with it, decorating the flat with tinsel and paper chains. John put a Santa Hat on the Skull whilst Mary put candy canes in all the test tubes. Most of it wasn’t going to appear on camera, but once they started they found it hard to stop; and the more they decorated the more annoyed Sherlock got and the more annoyed Sherlock got the more entertaining it became!

They were getting a chance to talk as well. Ok so normally Mary knew where a guy had gone to Uni before she’d seen him in his pants but sometimes life didn’t work like that. Her and John they just seemed to, to click!

Even once the flat as all decorated and they needed to take the photo, they were still able to have a good laugh about it all. Teasing John about his horribly taste in jumpers, swapping stories of Christmas of old and yeah a little bit of flirting. 

It was all going so well. Then Molly sprung February on them… 

 

“Now. Sally and me are in agreement. You two haven’t quite paid us back yet.” Sally nodded affirmatively. “You made me keep your secret for three years, Sherlock, and never really made up for it.”

“Plus you’ve been a complete git for way longer than that.” Added Sally.

“And you’ve been a complete git for way longer than that.” Agreed Molly.

“So, for your punishment. We want you and John to recreate this photo.” Sally pulled it up on her IPad and showed it to the group. It was of two guys making out in the shower. 

Oh shit. Thought Mary.

Oh Hell no. Thought John.

Why would two people want to shower together in that fashion? Whilst the idea was no doubt to save on water their actions did not seem focused on getting clean. Thought Sherlock.

“Why on earth am I involved in this? What did I do wrong?” spluttered John staring wide-eyed at the photo. 

“Nothing really.” Shrugged Molly. “We just want to Sherlock in this position, and Greg in there would just be weird”

“Why on earth would that be weirder than me!”

“Because he just works with Sherlock. You must have seen Sherlock wet out of the shower hundreds of times. We all know he walks around in nothing but a sheet half the time. We’ve read your blog.” It was true. He had seen Sherlock naked in the shower before. It was a habit with flat-mates as close as they were. And Sherlock was so comfortable in his own skin that it had never really seemed an issue before. Sherlock never made a fuss so John had gotten over it. There had been, true, a couple of awkward wanks afterwards. But, he was over that now. No. The issue was that Mary was here. If he ever wanted to see her again, he could not do this. He remembered what had happened with Sarah and Jeannette and Hannah and Francesca and Kate and every other girlfriend who’d thought him too close to Sherlock Holmes. This would be the nail in the coffin of their relationship before it had even started. 

“Look” said Mary putting her camera down upon the table “I didn’t sign up for that kind of thing. I’m not the photographer for you, I should have made it obvious before” Molly frowned 

“This photo’s from your blog.”

Crap. 

John raised his eyebrows at her. 

“It was a college project a long time ago. It was never, I just liked the composition of it. It wasn’t for work of anything. It was my foundation. I was looking at representations of love and sex in the media. I never” She was really selling it now. All of it was true but she still felt like she was digging herself a grave. John would never want to get a drink now. Not if he thought she was a practicing pervert. 

“Sherlock, what do you think?” asked Greg. The Detective hadn’t said anything yet. He was blushing slightly.

“It’s an ridiculous pose I don’t understand why you wish me to do it, I understand your choice of John as the model but I would look ridiculous like that. Whilst I’m willing to pose for your silly photographs, I am not happy to fortify a relationship between John and myself. It belittles everything. I know it’s been a little fantasy of yours, sergeant Donovan, but this surely boarders on illegal.”

“Yeah.” Added John “Everything has to be consensual. That’s the law.” 

“Exactly.” Agreed Mary. “I wouldn’t be comfortable photographing two people who weren’t intimate like that. It’d be much much too weird.”

Sally simply walked over to Sherlock and whispered something in his ear. His back went stiff as he looked around like a helpless rabbit caught in the headlights. He beckoned John over to the corner where they had a quick whispered argument. 

“We’ll do it.” 

And that was that then.

 

It was the most awkward thing she had ever done, which was really saying something. The bathroom was quite cramped which made getting the lighting and the angles quite hard. Bathrooms weren’t usually designed to accommodate professional photography equipment. The extractor fan was so loud and with the noise of the shower, she nearly had to shout to be heard. They couldn’t have the shower curtain drawn either so Mary kept getting water splashed at her. Why had she agreed to do this in the end? 

The two men seemed comfortable enough with seeing each other naked, but she still got the impression that neither of them wanted to be there. Still. They played their part well. Though John really didn’t seem all that comfortable with any of it. He just couldn’t seem to relax the way Sherlock was able. 

“Don’t worry John, from this angle you can’t see anything too incriminating” joked Mary, trying to get him to relax. But it seemed the more she said the more uncomfortable he became. From Mary’s point of view it really didn’t help that he still looked blooming gorgeous. She was finding it difficult to not stare. This whole photo-shoot had been a mistake, she concluded. She’d expected tubby middle-aged men but everyone seemed to be Sex Gods From Upon High. Even Anderson. The sooner she could be done with all this, the better. Just get paid and leave. So what if it meant never seeing John again? It’s not like he’d want to see her after all this.

*

Don’t think about Mary in the shower with you. Don’t think about Mary in the shower with you. Don’t think about Mary in the shower with you. Don’t think about Mary in the shower with you. 

Crap.

Anderson in a dress. Anderson in a dress. Anderson in a dress. Anderson in a dress.

Good Watson now just block out the world around you and

Did she have to talk to him he was trying to concentrate on Anderson! 

“Well, I think that’s us all done. I’ll leave now and let you two get dry. I need to sort out some payment stuff with Molly.” 

Exit perused by a bear, thought John. But he let out a sigh of relief nonetheless. Sherlock gave a cough from behind him, indicating that John should get out of the shower, now that it had finally stopped.

John grabbed a towel and groaned into it. “I hope I never have to see her again. I’m going to kill Molly. I’m going to kill her and burn the body.”

“It’d be more practical to dissolve it in acid, burning a body takes a lot longer than you would think and the smoke would make people suspicious. Corrosive acids can be bought easily enough if you know the right people. However, I would request that you don’t kill her, I doubt her replacement at St. Barts would be as complacent with allowing me to conduct experiments on their cadavers.” 

“That’s your problem with me murdering the woman who saved your life four years ago? That you wouldn’t be able to have access to dead bodies anymore?”

“Sentiment might play a small role in it I suppose.” He said primly. 

“Whatever Sherlock. I was didn’t actually mean it.” Much. 

“Obviously. I just felt the need to clarify you of some facts should the situation arise again.”

“Can we just get changed in silence now?”

“You’re the one who”

“Just shut up Sherlock, all right? Just. Stop all… this.”

“You just gestured at my whole body.”

“Exactly.” Murmured John. 

There was a moment’s silence then suddenly,

“If you feel as strongly about her as you appeared to be so in the shower”

“Yeah can we not talk about that?”

“Then why do you not simply ask her out? You’ve been on dates with 8 women in the past 12 months, of which three lasted more than two weeks, I don’t understand why you are finding this so difficult? Surely the exposure of flesh is going to secure you her affections? It’s been an acceptable way of attracting a partner since the 1960s and has been effective in doing so since the dawn of our race.”

“Because, Sherlock, she’s just seen me naked in a shower with my flat mate. For most women that’s a bit of a turn off.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him

“Molly and Sally’s reactions would indicate otherwise.”

“I mean, most women don’t want to date a man after that. They might want to have sex of whatever but it doesn’t normally end in a long lasting relationship.”

Sherlock paused to take all this in. John could see the intricate clogs that made up his mind whirling into action. He just sighed and left him to it, putting his TShirt and Trousers back on. He was just reaching for the door when Sherlock finally resurfaced 

“You know, John. Out of all the women you have taken an interest in, she would be the least detestable one I’ve met.” John just stared at him “She is, after all, entertaining to be around, on a level of intelligence equal to your own. Plus having a photographer we could use on cases would be helpful. It would mean I wouldn’t have to rely upon Anderson’s rubbish excuse for Crime Scene photos.”

“Did you just… did you just give us your, what, your blessing?”

Sherlock didn’t respond and just continued getting dressed. John tapped on the door handle thinking. She had shown some level of interest in him, after all. Greg had spotted it as well as Sherlock so maybe… Sherlock didn’t usually approve of his girlfriends so this really was a turn up for the books but… oh sod it. If he could invade Afghanistan, kill a man from another building and help defeat the greatest criminal mastermind the world had ever seen; he could ask a girl out.

But by the time he came out of the bathroom, she was gone. 

“Where’s Mary?”

“She just left. Said something about needing to get to another job. Greg was just helping her carry her equipment down” Said Molly casually. “She left me her number though if you-“

But he had already darted down the stairs to try and catch her up. If he had to call her up then, well, he’d never do it. So it was time for the big cheesy romantic running down the street, stopping her just as she got into a cab and confessing his undying… like…. 

Of course cheesy romantic moments like that don’t happen and anyway she’d come in her own car. “Need a hand with those lights?” he asked brightly.

“Oh. John. Hi, um, thanks, look, sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye earlier I’ve got a job to go to. Erm, it was nice meeting you by the way, I’ll um, I’ll send you a copy of the photos if you like. You can send them to your girlfriend or”

“Do you want to have dinner with me on Friday night.” He blurted out. Mary stared at him in shock “Oh no, I’m sorry you’ve probably got a boyfriend I’m sorry I just, I’m sorry.” She started laughing oh no he’d got it all so wrong hadn’t he? Could the ground just swallow him up already? Could Mycroft organise that? A spontaneous pothole would be great right about now. “Look, forget I said anything, I’ll leave you alone it was great meeting you. Good luck with everything.”

“John,” she called back “How about I meet you here at six?” his face lit up 

“Sounds great. I’ll see you on Friday then.” 

 

“She said yes then.” Said Sherlock as soon as he came back in the room. 

“Congratulations man.” Greg slapped him on the shoulder “Knew you had it in you.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” 

“Nothing mate. Nothing at all.” He grinned. “Just happy for you. You going to get Sherlock to play at the wedding? Can I be your best man or is that job already taken?”

“Of course it’s already taken.” Snapped Sherlock “Why would he choose you over me? I am far better qualified for the job.”

“Being so utterly reliable about such matters.” Rebutted Greg.

“Can we not start with the wedding plans? What are you fifteen? You’re worse than my Mother.” 

“She still thinks we’re dating by the way. You’ll have to tell her we broke it off.”

John collapsed into his chair with a groan. It had been a long, long day.

“Do you think she’ll give us a discount now?” pondered Molly. 

 

The date with John had gone exceedingly well. They’d talked long into the night, with the restaurant owner, Angelo, kicking them out at 11.00 so he could actually go home. She hummed as she edited the photos on her Mac, maybe next time she’d even up the score as to amount of flesh exposed. If he was lucky. She admired the photo she was editing, the one of John in those red pants. 

“Yeah.” She told her Laptop “He can get lucky.” Somewhere off in the distance she thought she heard wedding bells. She hoped it wasn’t some sort of weird sign. They’d only been out once!

 

A few months later Mary went round to 221B with a box of calendars. They’d just come in from the printers and she wanted to see their faces when the group saw them for the first time. She’d only seen proofs herself, so she was rather excited herself. 

Molly eagerly ripped open the box and everyone grabbed a calendar. They all flipped through the months laughing at how ridiculous all the poses looked. That was until they got to June.

“Who the fuck is that?” 

“How did he…”

“Well that’s one way of telling us he’s not dead.” 

“How am I meant to sell these now!”

“When was this even taken?”

Only Sherlock seemed pleased at the sight of Jim Moriarty splayed out across the steps leading up to their flat. “The game, John, is back on.” And he flew from the flat. 

“You best go after him, John. He’ll be needing you to hold things or whatever it is you do for him.” Mary grinned. 

 

“You don’t mind? We were meant to be going out later…” Mary shrugged 

“He needs you. You need him. There’s always going to be three people in this relationship. No point in getting upset about it. Just make sure you come back in one piece this time.” 

“You’re brilliant, you know that right?”

“Obviously. Now go!”

“All right, all right, Love you, bye” he darted out the door, running after Sherlock. When he realized what he’d just said, he started running faster. He thought he could hear Greg and Molly humming the wedding march. Which was rich coming from two newly weds. Or did that just make it more terrifying?

“John come on! We need to get to Moriarty’s grave as soon as possible!”

John sighed. Yes. There were definitely three people in this relationship and he didn’t really mind all that much. Indeed. He’d never been happier. He smiled a broad smile, and continued running after his crazy flat mate. He could deal with the confessions of love later. In fact, he was quite looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Reapersun's calendar can be bought here http://www.redbubble.com/people/reapersun/calendars/10818216-someone-please-fix-the-heat-in-221b-or-not?c=232873-sherlock and her Redbubble also contains lots of cute stickers!
> 
> Her tumblr is reapersun.tumblr.com but I'm guessing if you ship Johnlock and you have a tumblr - then you probably already know who she is.... and if you don't - then check out her 30 Day OTP challenges =)
> 
> Although, remember, she most definitely Not Safe For Work.


End file.
